Lyrics Drip - Tiny Meat Gang

Lemme tell you 'bout the drip (Yeah)
I'm at the function uninvited, rockin' all designer shit (Facts)
I'm sittin' on a Louie throne wearin'
Gucci toe socks, starin' at a sea of TJ Maxx, ah
I got the Fendi carabiner on the water bottle (Water)
Balenciaga lookin' wavy on my squash goggles (Squash)
You got a satchel for your stash, that's a fad,
I spend a couple grand cash on the Gucci mousepad
Yellow diamonds on my china plates, uh
VVS on my retainer case, uh
Fendi razer when I shave my face
I got the Versace doorbell - welcome to my place
And there's a pool in the back,
Got the haters lookin' sad when they peep the 'berry swim cap
That's no cap got the Givenchy right on my back
And underneath the Amiri pants I rock a Gucci jockstrap
(Wait what's up?)
Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('Bout the drip)
Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (Don't flip)
Gucci gun, Margiela clip (Margiela clip)
Got the Louie V beat and the Fendi ad-lib
Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('Bout the drip)
Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (doesn't flip)
Gucci gun, Margiela clip (Margiela clip)
Got the Louie V beat and the Fendi ad-lib
You see the fit, everything I'm rockin' handmade
I got this Amish bitch she makin' daddy Marmalade
We raisin' sheep all in the back that's how I'm makin' suede
And I never pay for Timberlands 'cause that's my trade
That new whip, crackin', smackin' that horse ass
My woodgrain wagon so old fashioned I make it go fast
Your girl asked me to plough her fields 'cause she know you won't
She into animals, 'cause she fuckin' with the G.O.A.T
My back hurtin' churnin' dough (Whip it, whip it)
We in the soil growin' smoke (We deal it, deal it)
She goin' numb off my strokes (She want it, want it)
Organic yoghurt in the throat
Drip so hard my Louie sweater moist
My dick two-tone call it a Phantom Royce
I'm only fuckin' with designer 'roids
I'm ballin' out not like them other broke boys
Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('Bout the drip)
Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (Lemme tell you)
Gucci gun, Margiela clip (Margiela clip)
Got the Louie V beat and the Fendi ad-lib
Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('Bout the drip)
Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (Lemme tell you)
Gucci gun, Margiela clip (Margiela clip)
I got the Louie V beat and the Fendi ad-lib
O-o-o-h I got that Louie V. on, I got that Louie V on
You got that Louie V on,
Know I'm fuckin' with that Gucci,
You know I'm fuckin' with that Louie
No L and I'm drownin' in booty
And now I'm fuckin' with your bitch and some Gucci